and the petals smile like clowns
by justalittle l o o n y
Summary: A flower is dropped- a war begins. -NextGen Drabble Collection-
1. MollyTeddy

**So, this is a drabble collection, as you can tell by the summary. Every day, hopefully, I shall be posting a drabble based off of the A Bouquet of Prompts challenge at NGF. Heather's awesome for making it, okay? So go and participate.  
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**So yeah, I don't own Harry Potter. Enjoy.  
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><p><em>MollyTeddy ;; Acacia- Friendship, Striped Carnation- Refusal<em>

She bumps into him one day in the hallway.

There are no words exchanged. No smiles. No frowns. Just two flowers dropped on the ground, their petals fanning out into a twisted smile.

_His?_ An acacia blossom. Friendship. A ray of sunshine flickers off the happy yellow petals, and for a second, he believes he has a chance.

Then, a mere ten seconds after she chances a glance at the flicker of happiness, another flower is dropped. With pink and white tresses, it twirls as it falls. He watches it bitterly as it spins, looking like a sick, demented Flamenco dancer.

_Refusal._


	2. RoxanneLorcan

**For Rachel, because she wrote RoxanneLorcan and it was hilarious. **

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><p><em>LorcanRoxanne ;; Yellow Balsam- Impatience<em>

"Is it done yet?" a tall, loud firecracker of a girl asks the delicate looking blond boy sitting in front of her by an easel.

"Not yet," he says patiently, clearly having heard this question a million times.

The girl waits a few minutes before she can't take it anymore and bursts out, "How about now?"

He grits his teeth, but still dips his paintbrush into his palette calmly. "Not just yet, Roxy. I'm still working on it."

She grins sheepishly. "Sorry Lorc, it's just your paintings are so pretty, and when you said you'd finally paint me I was _thrilled_ because you've never painted me before, and I've always wanted you to because your pairings always make the subject look so nice- and I'll just shut up now because I'm rambling and I know how much you hate it when I talk while you're painting." She finishes her tirade with another gigantic grin and folds her hands in her lap.

He just rolls his eyes. "Roxy, please?" he asks, gesturing to the half-finished painting in front of him. "I've got the basic sketch down, so…"

She looks at him confusedly. "What? But that would mean- OHHHHHHHHHH. I gotcha." She sends a wink his way and stands up from her position under the tree. "I'll just go then." She stands up and runs off to swim in the Great Lake with her other friends- the summer is such a brilliant time of year for fun.

Of course, she returns half an hour later, her hair dripping and yet another grin on her face. "Are you done now?"

He finally looks up. "Actually, I am," he says quietly and turns the easel towards her. She gasps- it's the perfect likeness of her. Only somehow, he's managed to capture a moment when she wasn't grinning or asking him if he was done.

In the painting, she's staring thoughtfully at the clouds, a dreamy smile on her face, and a yellow flower in her hair. She looks at him, confused. "I wasn't wearing a flower in my hair…" she says slowly.

Finally, a grin breaks out across his face _(it's like the sun coming out- she hasn't seen it in months). _"It's called a yellow balsam," he explains, "and it means impatience."

Her jaw drops in shock and indignation, but then her face changes back to its usual grin as she processes how well he actually knows her. "I love you, Lorc."

He shakes his head with the ghost of his smile still on his lips. "Love you too, Roxy."


	3. ViolettaLouis

**Well this one is a bit more angsty than usual. I do like Violetta though.**

**Dedicated to Hope, because she loves Louis a ton. And although my characterization of him turns him into a bit of an ass at times, I love him too. **

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><p><em>LouisOC ;; Elm- Dignity, Dark Geranium- Melancholy<em>

He comes to her garden again.

She's not entirely sure _why, _after all, she's just a crippled young woman with a burned face, and everyone knows that he's as vain as they come. No teenaged part-veela in their right mind would come and visit _her _a second time without their mother forcing them.

So that's what she concludes with a melancholy sigh as she watches his blonde head and icy blue eyes wander around her garden disdainfully. She fingers a dark geranium unconsciously, its deep colors ironically soothing her fears. She doesn't like having visitors _(especially handsome young ones)_; she's always terrified that they'll comment on the long veil she wears.

He's no exception.

"Why are you wearing _that?_" he asks with a sneer, and she wonders how dear, kind Fleur, the beautiful mother of three, 19 years her senior, ever managed to conceive such a dreadful brat.

"Because," she answers quietly, with a hint of pride in her voice. She reaches for a flower hanging from the Elm tree above her head. Dignity. She must show dignity. "The war left more than emotional wounds- and for some of us, they were permanent." She lifts the veil and her skirt to show the long, zigzagging Fiendfyre burn up the entire left side of her body. "I prefer not to show off my wounds."

His eyes grow a thoughtful expression, though his face shows no change from its haughty smirk. "Of course," he says smoothly, with just a hint of mockery. "I can see why."

She looks at him, all senses of security and balance that usually come to her in her garden gone. She quietly points to the gate. "I think you should go," she says in a firm voice.

He does.

_(she sits down awkwardly on a bench behind her, takes off the veil, twirls the geranium between her fingers and sobs)_

She'll never be normal.


	4. DominiqueLysander

**Okaayy, so I don't really like this one as much. Which is weird, because I used to ship DominiqueLysander really hard. But now... Eh. Anyway, this one's dedicated to Amy, because she was the first person I met who liked DomSander as well. **

**Enjoy?**

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><p><em>DominiqueLysander ;; Hawthorn- Hope, Fern- Fascination<em>

There's an undefined variable in her equation, and she's determined to figure him out. The funny thing about him is that he never gives her a straight answer. She'll ask him how his day went, and he'll smile and say the Hawthorn flowers are blooming.

She hopes so. After all, everyone who lives by the nutty girl next door knows that Hawthorn flowers mean hope, and if he's telling her that the hope is blooming, does that maybe mean he likes her back?

She's not sure. She never is with him- and maybe that's why she's so bloody fascinated. She's always liked maths, because they're one of the few things in life that can actually give one answer and _mean_ one answer. But then there's him, and he's like some sort of undefined variable, and he just randomly pops up right when she's about to solve her equation _(seventh year, baby, and she's about to graduate with an O in Arithmancy)_. So she tries to solve him.

She never gets his value- it's constantly changing and shifting and _Merlin, _can't that boy take a break from confusing her and give her a straight answer?

So one day, she can't take it anymore, and she hands him a flower. A fern. It means fascination, because that's what she has with him, and she knows he'll understand her metaphorical crap, even if no one else will.

He smiles at her and points to the Hawthorn tree above them. "Hawthorn-" _(Hope)_ "-is in the air."

She shakes her head. "Enough of your bloody definition problems ," she says forcefully and kisses him.

She's solved for x.


	5. LucyScorpius

**Yet another dark one. I think something's wrong with me. **

**Anyhoo, this one's dedicated to Louise (Shortcuts and false solutions) because she's another Lucy fan, and she helped me figure out what I wanted to do with Lucy.**

**Enjoy!  
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><p><em>LucyScorpius ;; King-Cups- Desire for Riches<em>

The desire for power overcomes her sometimes.

No, she's not a Slytherin, she's a Hufflepuff. A sweet, loyal, kind, hard-working Hufflepuff. She has to remind herself of this sometimes, when she turns her nose up at people who have to buy things at a _second-hand_ shop, or people who bow down to her cousin Victoire like she's a goddess or something.

She's not.

If anyone's a goddess, it's Lucy, because _Merlin_, she's got the looks, the smarts, the charming personality that makes people think she's just a sweet little innocent Hufflepuff and _no-_ she must stop thinking this way. Because someday, if she keeps at it, the desire for _moremoremore_ will overcome her.

But really, how is it so bad, she wonders one day as she stares out the window at the rich old ladies in her area, bustling along the streets with their enormously large hats with king-cups in the corners. All she wants is a little more power, a little more money- scratch that.

_A lot more money._

Sometimes, as she stares out her window, dreaming of being royalty, of having a prince, of having servants at her beck and call, she wonders why the hell her father hasn't gotten a better position at the ministry yet. He's a brilliant worker, he's organized, he's pretty much the best person she knows to be Minister of Magic, and yet he's _never_ tried for anything more. He rants about family being more important than work or some crap like that, but she sees right through him. He's too scared of failure.

But she's not scared of failure, oh no, she'll do anything to succeed. _Is that Hufflepuff determination and hard work, or is it Slytherin ambition? The lines blur sometimes._ So she plans, and she plans and she plans and soon she thinks of the perfect thing that will get her everything she's ever dreamed of and more.

Scorpius Malfoy.

Who cares if he's in love with Rose, or if her sister's in love with him? She certainly doesn't. She just wants his money, and his fame, and his power, and maybe that's just the teensiest bit wrong, but she's _Lucy Weasley, the innocent Hufflepuff dreamer,_ so no one sees through her happy chirps and innocent, chaste kisses on his lips.

Oh, how wrong they are.


	6. RoseTeddy

**So, this one is different from my usual style. No capitals in sight. **

**Dedicated to Jane, because she loves Rose. :)  
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** Enjoy!**

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><p><em>roseteddy ;; japanese rose- beauty is your only attraction<em>

after the frenzy of lust and animal instincts is over, he stares at her in the darkness of his room. she's beautiful, really.

her cream colored skin, bending and contorting around him flashes through his head and he shakes his head to get rid of the image. he knows her better than most people, and he knows that he does not matter to her. it's not that she's a _slut_ or a _whore_ or any of those less respectable names given to girls like her.

he's just an experiment to her. a test. a hypothesis that needs to be proved.

and honestly, he doesn't blame her, she's always had a scientific need to prove every given fact in the world.

but sometimes, lessons need to be learned. he clears his throat and she looks over with her usual, calm, emotionless, cool expression. "Yes?" she asks, with just a hint of annoyance. He can practically hear her drawling _'you're not supposed to talk, love.'_

"have you-" his voice breaks and he clears his throat again. "have you considered that maybe _this_ isn't the best reputation for you to have?" a faint thought of lily reaching across the table to snog him, her low-cut shirt practically falling off of her thin frame, fills his mind, and he wonders when sleeping around became the new things that his little girls did for fun.

she rolls her eyes and stands up. he watches her as she throws on a conservative white button down and pencil skirt _(her dress sense is so different from her _true _personality, he's realized.) _"of course i have," she says with a slightly arrogant tone. "i'm a ravenclaw, i think of everything."

he watches her again, this time more intently, as she steps into her heels and pulls on the white muggle lab coat that accompanies every outfit she wears. "rose- why are you doing this?"

she blinks at him, and for the first time in his life, he sees the cool, collected, know-it-all wall fall. "i-" she starts, and he wonders if maybe, just maybe, he'll get his little, innocent, questioning rosie back. "because i like knowing things, and if this is what it takes to know something, i'll do it," she finally says, her wall raised back up again.

he glares at her and does something he'll always regret. he reaches over to the bouquet of flowers lucy sent him and picks one off his stems. "this is a japanese rose. you know what it means, don't you?" he places it in her hair before she has the chance to tie it up in a ponytail, and she glares at him.

she burns his flesh with her firey gaze for a few moments before she speaks. "teddy remus lupin, i know every scientific name for every flower, did you think i wouldn't know the meaning as well?" she glares at him. "a japanese rose means 'beauty is your only attraction,' is that what you're trying to say? be clear"

he shakes his head. "rose, if you keep up with this whole 'shag with no emotions' thing, that's what people are _going _to think of you."

she glares at him again again and walks out.

_(she begins dating lorcan scamander the next week)_


	7. LorcanMollyLysander

**Okay, so this one was different than usual, because it's written in ten sentences. It's dedicated to Tatoe, because I love her and she's aimyzhie-ing. 3**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>LorcanMollyLysander ;; Oak Tree- Hospitality, Magnolia- Love of Nature<em>

i.

A little girl dances in the field, smiling and shouting with happiness before she trips and falls into a pile of oak leaves..

ii.

She grins and throws them around her- pulling the two older boys she's playing with into a dance.

iii.

One of the two boys smiles dreamily and says, "Those means hospitality, Molls, does that mean you'll be inviting us to your house soon?"

iv.

The little girl shakes her head, the pigtails flying- "Mummy says I can't have anyone over to my house until Daddy leaves!"

v.

The other of the two boys makes a confused face and whines, "Your Daddy's _always _gone from the house, Molls, can't you let us over?"

vi.

She frowns, deep lines that shouldn't be there appearing in her forehead- "I don't think that's what Mummy meant, can't I come over to your house?"

vii.

The two boys both smile at each other, link their arms around her elbows and cheer, "Molly's coming to our house, Molly's coming to our house!"

viii.

Molly giggles as their chant turns into an argument: "I love Molly more, no, I love Molly more!"

ix.

_(she has no idea how accurate their argument will be later in life)_

x.

As they skip off, Lysander shoving Lorcan down a hill and proving himself the victor, a magnolia blossom waves in the breeze, taunting the children of the things yet to come.


	8. DominiqueScorpius

**So this one's a bit too long to be a drabble, but I like it, and I really don't feel like cutting it down, so.  
>It's dedicated to Mad, because this drabble was due on her birthday, and I know she likes this pairing. ;)<strong>

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>DominiqueScorpius ;; Nasturtium- Patriotism<em>

After she graduates, Dominique moves away to America and doesn't return for nearly 4 years. So what if it's not the clearcut, one answer choice that she'd normally make, she figures it's about time to change.

She cuts her hair to a pixie cut, develops a sugary-sweet but deadly persona, and basically tells everyone who has ever hurt her to go fuck themselves _(Lysander especially)._

It feels a m a z i n g.

But somehow, somewhere, sometime during her cross-country muggle road trip across America, she realizes she misses her family and friends, _(and maybe, just maybe, it's time to let go of the silly grudge towards Ly she's been carrying) _and decides to go home. She stops in a dinky little down in Colorado, enters their wizarding area, and takes a Portkey straight to the address she's written to a million times since she's moved.

She walks in through the door, a bounce in her step and a smirk on her face. "I'm back, bitch!" she shouts, throwing the keys on the little coffee table nextto the door and strutting into Molly's living room with a cocky smirk. She stops right before the door and gasps, tears springing to her eyes _(with her desperately trying to hold them back) _because Molly and Lysander are hurriedly sitting up and straightening their clothes, and it's desperately clear what they've been doing. Quickly, she composes herself _(Vic's not the only brilliant liar in the family)_ and throws a dramatic smirk-slash-glare at them. "Have fun making ugly babies," she says pettily with a step out the door, making sure to sway her hips dramatically to let them both (who's she kidding, it's only h i m) know how nice the babies _she _could have would be.

Once she's outside, she bursts into tears. And that in itself just makes her cry more, because even if she could compose herself in front of them, she can't pretend forever like Victoire, and that's only its own testimony to the fact that however many times she disappears to America and no matter how much of a rebel she becomes, she'll always be second-best to one of her various family members. She sits down on the curb outside their flat and pulls the new, dangerously high heels off her feet. What good did they do, anyway? She's still just a pale imitation of her younger cousin. Of her older sister. Of her mother. Of her aunts. Of every female she's ever met. She lets out one wretched sob and tosses the shoe as far as she can into the street.

It's immediately crushed by the crowd of paparazzi wizards, probably following one of her cousins, and she lets out a bitter laugh. It's just like her.

"Oh get over yourself," a voice says disgustedly as its owner sits down next to her. She looks over pitifully, and it's Scorpius Malfoy, wearing a woe-is-me-I-have-to-comfort-a-crying-girl expression on his face.

"You're one to talk, you look like you just came out of a month-long production of Othello," she says sharply.

He smiles, and for a second she thinks maybe they'd match, because his smile is just as bitter as hers is, and leans back against the curb, his hands spreading out. "Maybe I have, you know how much I love the theatre," he says in a drawling tone, drawing out the syllables in his last word.

She shoves him with a roll of her eyes, as usual Scorpius's dry humor has managed to cheer her up somewhat. "Besides," he continues, "I don't think you're in a good position to lecture me on my pathetic appearance, considering your current look. I wasn't aware that heartbroken rebel was in right now." He raises an eyebrow at her shirt, a bright nasturtium painted with the pattern of the American flag. "Really, Dominique, you should know better than to wear something like that in Britain- you might be shot by some overly patriotic muggle."

She rolls her eyes and flips him the bird. He looks at her, impressed. "Now now, it seems you've grown some spirit in your four year absence, love." His last few words are clearly designed to be cutting, and she starts to feel the slightest bit guilty as he continues. "You left us out of the blue, we had no contact with you for at least 2 years, and then you send a single letter written on the back of a muggle diner napkin, to _me _of all people, informing us that you'd needed a change- did you really think you could waltz back here with no one changing?" He stuffs his hands in his pockets, and she notices that where there used to be a promise ring, there is only a strip of pale, almost unhealthy-looking skin.

"Scorpius," she starts, not really sure what to say. "What happened?"

He smirks at the air, pulling a classic Slytherin move and using sarcasm to belittle his own wounds. "Rose decided she couldn't handle anything more than no strings attached. Of course, the next month she started going out with Lorcan Scamander, so I think it might have just been me."

She doesn't throw herself at him, sobbing about how her cousin shouldn't have done that and how she's so sorry, and if there's anything she can do? No. She just sits there, looking at him. "Well, Rose's a bit of a slut at times," she finally says. "She doesn't mean to be- hell, if she understood that she was causing you pain, she'd probably get back with you, she's just clueless about the spectrum of human emotions."

He doesn't nod in agreement, or break down and cry, or even hex something. He just stares at a brick in the road that's somehow come loose with an unreadable expression on his face. "I know," is all he says.

She doesn't push him for anything more than that. Instead, she sits with him and watches that little brick as the trembles of the ground caused by the various wizards stomping around pop it out of its spot. "Huh," she muses.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asks, a bit of his old ice back in his voice, and she smiles and tells him something about how emotions are a bit like that rock, and how after time, the constant shifting of your emotions cause others to pop out and you stop feeling. He watches her, completely interested, and she feels a tiny tingle run through her body, because finally, _someone's _paying attention to her and only her.


	9. VictoireOC

**This one's dedicated to Leeshy, because Ikindofsortof borrowed Jude for this. ;) Plus I love her. ;)**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>She thrives on temptation, with its many methods and portrayals, and sometimes, as she walks around with her signature mini braids with Quince flowers woven in, she thinks hers just might be the best. She simply screams innocent beauty, but she's managed to show enough skin to lets boys know that she's willing.<p>

And _oho, _does it work.

She draws each boy into a separate petal and has her wonderfulwonderfulwonderful way with them. Because really, they're all just mere supporting characters in the play that is her life. Boys don't actually _matter, _they're just there to make her look good.

She supposes it's a bit of a flawed logic, but she sticks to it, because she's never truly been attracted to guys, and let's face it, no one's going to hire a lesbian Juliet to commit suicide for her Romeo, and she desperately needs the spotlight.

But then another character appears, one almost identical to herself. But she's more than her, really, because this new girl is basically Victoire if she'd made the unexpected decisions in life. _Sorted into Slytherin, sleeping with both boys and girls, swearing all the time, she's basically Victoire's devil on the shoulder._

And just like that- everyone's view of her changes. Victoire stops being perfect. Victoire stops being wanted, Victoire stops fitting everyone's expectations.

Victoire sleeps with a girl.

_(andshelovesit)_


	10. RoseLorcan

**Rose again. Yes. I love her. ;) Dedicated to Lo, because she liked painter!Lorcan and I wanted to show his flaws.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>The problem with Rose is that she's just as guarded and calm as he is, so their relationship basically just becomes a fight to see who can show the least emotion <em>(because really, Rose does rivalry better than anyone else he knows) <em>and still have people know they're dating.

When they're at a party, they'll sit next to each other, chatting with their respective friends, not even looking at each other, not dancing, and as far as any stranger could tell, they don't know each other.

But then their fingers meet, sending fireworks up and down their spines, and it's obvious they're in love.

But soon, after watching his brother with Molly, Scorpius with Lucy, even Roxanne with her boyfriend, he starts to want more. He starts to want to hear the three words come from her mouth.

_I._

_Love._

_You._

But of course they don't come, because they're _RoseandLorcan_, and neither of them can show emotion very well, and besides, he doesn't think Rose is even capable of being in love.

So slowly, to test out how much she really cares, he starts to distance himself. He stops hanging out with her as much, he starts flirting with other girls, he kisses Lucy _(only once, mind you, and for a dare), _he even paints Roxy in the nude.

But unlike most other girls, she doesn't cling tighter to him, or show more emotion towards him- instead he starts to lose her more. She spends more and more time distracted and spacey, and rushes to her makeshift lab every five minutes. He doesn't know what else to do _(because he's never really been good at the whole "I think we should break up" thing)_, so one day, before she can get away from him, he paints her a gigantic, beautiful Rocket Flower, surrounded by cool, calm water. She nods, understanding that it symbolizes their relationship immediately. He gives her a bitter smile and rips it to pieces in front of her.

She doesn't cry, she doesn't frown, she barely even blinks. Instead, she reaches up on tiptoes and whispers in his ear, _"I win."_


End file.
